


Thirty Minutes or It's Free

by gutsforgarters



Series: Or Your Money Back [1]
Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, F/M, Meet-Cute, Older Man/Younger Woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 14:44:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19359121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gutsforgarters/pseuds/gutsforgarters
Summary: Kate stares at Jessica. “It’s mybirthday, and you’re makingmeanswer the door?”“Trust me.” Jessica gives Kate wide eyes like she’s trying to silently communicate something of great importance. “You’ll wanna get this one.”





	Thirty Minutes or It's Free

**Author's Note:**

> For an anonymous prompt on tumblr. I had a lot of fun with it! 
> 
> Just for clarification: Jessie and Libby are the poor girls from the liquor store in the pilot, lol.

Kate stopped insisting on making big productions out of her birthdays a while ago, and all she wants to do for her eighteenth is eat her weight in pizza and binge watch terrible Netflix rom coms with a few close friends. The pizza’s on its way, courtesy of Jessica, but the rom coms have hit a roadblock in the form of Scott, who’s outright _refusing_ to budge from his spot in front of the TV.

“C’mon, Scott, _please_ ,” Kate says for what feels like the fiftieth time. She hasn’t been keeping count, so she can’t say for sure, but she wouldn’t be surprised if it actually _was_.

“Just let me finish this level,” Scott says, not even for a second tearing his eyes away from the TV screen and the little pixelated assassin guy who’s currently parkouring his way across the rooftops of…medieval Rome? Kate’s pretty sure it’s medieval Rome.

“That’s what you said right before you finished the _last_ level,” Libby snaps, so visibly irritated that her ponytail’s practically bristling.

“Who asked you?” The little pixelated assassin guy falls off the edge of a roof, and Scott curses under his breath. “What’re you hanging around here for, anyway? Don’t you have a community college class to go flunk?”

“For God’s sake,” Jessie mutters, and Jessica rolls her eyes in solidarity.  

“Kate,” says Libby, sweet as spun sugar, “would it be alright if I killed your brother?”

Scott peels his right hand off the PlayStation controller long enough to flip Libby the bird.

Thankfully, bloodshed is averted by the chime of the doorbell. Jessica tears her eyes away from her phone and says, “You wanna go get that, Kate?”

Kate stares at her. “It’s my _birthday_ , and you’re making _me_ answer the door?”

“It’s your house,” Jessie reminds her.

“Yeah,” says Jessica. “And it’s just pizza, Kate. It’s not like I’m asking you to rebuild the freaking pyramids from scratch.”

“Sloth’s a sin, y’know,” Scott chimes in, as if he’s moved from his spot in front of the television at all since this morning. Oh, wait, he _hasn’t_.

“Trust me.” Jessica gives Kate wide eyes like she’s trying to silently communicate something of great importance. “You’ll wanna get this one.”

Kate can’t _believe_ that she’s friends with these people. Scott, she has no choice in the matter because he’s her brother, but she actively _chose_ to befriend the lazy bums who are currently lounging around her living room like spoiled house cats. Talk about _sloth_.

In the end, Kate relents with a huff, patting around her cutoffs’ pockets to make sure she’s got her wallet on hand before heading off down the front hallway. And if she doesn’t so much _walk_ as _storm_ , who could blame her?

It’s not that she’s lazy or anything, but you’d _think_ that it wouldn’t kill the others to at least _help_ her with the pizzas, especially since Jessica ordered _six_ of the suckers. How’s Kate supposed to juggle all those?

Kate wipes the scowl off her face as she pulls the front door open, though, not wanting to take her bad mood out on the poor innocent pizza delivery person. Turns out she didn’t need to bother, though, because as soon as she gets a good look at the man standing on her front porch, her face wipes itself blank.

“Hey,” says the hot guy on Kate’s front porch, flashing a dimpled smile that hits her like a sucker punch to the gut. “Order for Fuller?”

Kate’s gawking like an idiot. Worse, she _knows_ she’s gawking like an idiot, but she can’t seem to _stop_. In her defense, she’s never met anyone who’s managed to look this good in beige khakis and a tomato-red polo shirt.

The delivery guy squints at her, long fluttery lashes grazing the high arcs of his cheekbones, and, whoa. Is Kate narrating a romance novel or what? “Do I have the wrong house?”

 _Oh, shit._ Kate tears her eyes away from the guy’s full lower lip and focuses on the tall stack of insulated pizza boxes he’s juggling in his arms. “Uh, no. This is, um…I’m Fuller.” _Crap, no, backtrack_. Kate squeezes her eyes shut for a second and tries again. “I mean, I’m _Kate_ Fuller.”

“Nice to meet you, Kate Fuller.” Kate blinks her eyes open and looks at the guy’s tattooed forearm instead of his face, which turns out to be a mistake of epic proportions. It’s a _really_ nice forearm. “You wanna sign for these pizzas, or?”

“Uh.” Kate makes herself look him in the face. There’s a smile lurking on his mouth, probably because he’s laughing at her internally. Then she looks back to the stack of insulated pizza boxes. If she tried to carry those all on her own, she’d drop them. “Hey, uh, would you mind helping me bring these inside? I’ll tip you really well! I mean, I was gonna tip you well anyway, but. Um.”

The delivery guy’s smile just stretches wider. Great. “Sure. No problem.”

“Thanks,” Kate mumbles, grabbing the top two boxes off the stack and stepping out of the way. “Uh, come in. Please.”

Just before Kate turns to head down the hallway to the kitchen, she gets a flash of the name stitched onto the left breast pocket of the delivery guy’s shirt beneath the Uncle Eddie’s Pizzeria logo. _Seth_. It’s a nice name. Kate’s always kind of liked it.

Seth follows closely on Kate’s heels, and Kate swears that she can feel the heat coming off of him like some kind of furnace—except, no, that’s probably the pizzas. Whatever the source, it warms her from the nape of her neck to the dip of her spine, makes her hyperaware of her bare legs sticking out from the ragged hems of her cutoffs.

Did she remember to shave this week? Crap, she’s wearing _Wonder Woman_ socks.

Kate plunks the pizza boxes down on the kitchen island with a sense of abject relief and sticks her hand in her pocket, fingers curling around her wallet, but Seth doesn’t leave right away. No, he stops to pull the insulated sleeves off the boxes, which, obviously. It’s not like he was going to _leave_ them here.

“So, what’s the occasion?” he asks as he rolls up the insulated bags and tucks them under his right arm, serpentine tattoo flickering like a living thing.

“Occasion?” Kate parrots intelligently.

Seth nods at the tower of pizza boxes and hands Kate a pen and his copy of the receipt to sign. “That’s a shit ton of pizza. You gonna wolf it all down yourself?”

Kate narrows her eyes at him, but she signs the receipt with a flourish before handing it over and saying, “No. Although my brother just might. He always eats like he’s got ten stomachs.”

Seth laughs softly, and something at Kate’s very center gives a pleasant hum. “Yeah, I know how that is. I got a little brother who’s the same way.”

Oh. They both have younger brothers. They’ve got something in _common_. Sure, it’s something that _a great deal of people on the planet_ have in common, but still. Kate smiles tentatively, wondering if she should take the opening and commiserate with him over how annoying younger brothers can be, but she never gets the chance to.

“Holy shit.”

Dread rising in her stomach like vomit, Kate turns slowly to look at Jessica, Jessie, and Libby, who’re all hovering in the kitchen entryway and staring at Seth like he’s a glass of water in the desert. Which, yeah. Kate can’t really fault them for that one.

Kate glances at Seth, whose smile has gotten bigger. Kate can’t really fault him, either. Her friends are all really pretty, Jessie especially. Yup. Totally fair reaction. “Well, hi there. I didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to meet _four_ pretty girls on my route today. Richie’s gonna be pissed.”

 _Richie?_ Kate wonders, blinking. And then, _Four?_

Wait. Did he just imply what Kate _thinks_ he implied?

Jessica and Libby just giggle, but Jessie looks Seth over and says, “Wait. You don’t _actually_ deliver pizzas, do you? You’ve gotta be one of those themed birthday strippers, because, dude, you are _way_ too hot to be a pizza delivery guy.”

“Thanks,” Seth says cheerfully, but Kate presses her eyes shut and sighs, “ _Jess_.”

“What?” Jessie and Jessica say in unison. Yeah. That can get confusing sometimes.

Kate opens her eyes and scowls at her friends, praying to God that Seth doesn’t notice the color dusting her cheeks. “Stop harassing him.”

“It’s okay, little lady,” Seth says, and when Kate begrudgingly looks him in the face, she finds that the slant of his mouth is almost _wicked_. “I’m flattered, really.” He cocks his head. “Whose birthday is it, now?”

Dammit.

“Kate’s,” Jessica says immediately. Kate glares at her, but she just shrugs, unrepentant.

“That right?” Seth asks, doing an excellent impression of someone who actually cares to know this information. “How old’re you turning, Kate?”

For a second, Kate’s struck by a wild and uncharacteristic urge to lie and say that she’s twenty-one. “…Eighteen.”

“No shit? Well, happy friggin’ birthday. Just try not to get into any trouble from here on out, alright? You are officially old enough to be tried as an adult.”

That’s…a pretty weird thing to say, but Kate’ll take it. Eyes on her Wonder Woman socks, Kate says, “Thank you.”

And things might have proceeded smoothly from there, if not for Libby blurting, “Hey, if you’re a stripper, does that mean you’re gonna give her birthday spankings?”

A freak sinkhole doesn’t _actually_ open up beneath Kate’s feet and take her, but for a wild, vivid second, she imagines that it _does_.

Then she glares at her _ex_ -friends and snaps, “Out.”

Libby’s forehead puckers. “But—”

“ _Out_ ,” Kate says through her teeth, practically shaking with humiliation. Just, thank _God_ her dad stepped out to pick up her birthday cake. Thank. God.

Kate’s eyes must do a good job of conveying the violence of her wrath—forgive her, Jesus—because her friends immediately book it, fleeing to the relative safety of the living room.

Assholes.

Grinding the heels of her hands against her eyeballs, Kate says, “I am _so_ sorry about them. I—”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. They’re your friends, right? Friends give each other a hard time. I get that.”

Kate peeks at Seth through her fingers. His face is soft with understanding. “…Really?”

Seth’s dimples come out. “Yeah, really.”

“Well, okay. Thanks.” Kate drops her hands, but only to go digging through her wallet. Holding out a wad of cash, she says, “Keep the change. Seriously.”

Seth tilts his head. “Not gonna stuff it in my g-string?”

Kate’s eyes bug out, and a scalding wave of heat licks up her throat to settle in her cheeks.

“Relax, I’m kidding.” Seth accepts the cash, the callused tips of his fingers brushing Kate’s. “Walk me to the door, birthday girl?”

 _Jerk._ “…Yeah, okay.”

Seth asked Kate to walk him to the door, but _he_ ends up leading the way, giving Kate a chance to covertly study him from behind. Broad shoulders, sturdy waist, cut back muscles standing out through his ugly polo shirt.

…Nice butt.

Seth steps out onto the porch, and Kate goes to tug the front door shut, but then Seth turns around and says, “Hey.”

What? Does he want to give her his number? No way. This guy is out of her league, not to mention roughly a decade older than her at a guess. Just. No way in hell.

And, as expected, Seth just holds up a piece of paper and says, “You forgot your copy of the receipt.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Except Kate doesn’t take the receipt. Just keeps staring at Seth and feeling moderately creepy about it.

Seth starts smiling again. “Hey, birthday girl.” He crooks his finger at her, beckoning. “C’mere a second.”

Kate can practically _hear_ her father lecturing her about stranger danger as she steps outside and onto the porch, and that internal lecture just gets louder when Seth reaches around her to tug the door shut, chest grazing her forearm.  

Straightening up, Seth says, “I don’t do birthday spankings on the first date, but we could work something else out. You know. If you wanted.”

Kate’s jaw doesn’t _actually_ drop, but it’s a near thing.

 _Oh my God_ , she thinks as giddy bubbles rise in her stomach. _Oh my God. Is he really—?_

Afraid of doing anything that would cause the bubbles in her stomach to burst, Kate proceeds with caution and says, “You want to give me a birthday present?”

Seth gestures with his left arm, since his right arm is still cradling those pizza bags. “I don’t got any Hallmark cards on me, so I’ll have to improvise. But, yeah. I do.”

Kate stares up at him, heart in her throat, an almost-painful stitch in her chest. He’s not much taller than her. He wouldn’t even have to lean that far down to—

Seth angles his head, tucking his chin against his throat. His breath gusts across Kate’s face, warm and sweet. Kate licks her lips like she’s trying to catch the taste of it. Maybe she is.

Seth dips in closer, slowly, cautiously, like he’s giving her time to back off. Just in case he misread her. Just in case she doesn’t want this.

She definitely wants this. She _wants_ this, so she lifts up on her toes and catches Seth’s mouth with hers. Seth huffs out a surprised breath through his nose, left hand coming up to cradle her face, fingers framing her ear and sliding through her hair.

Seth’s older than her. He’s _older than her_ , and it shows in his kiss, in the way he clearly knows what he’s doing and what he wants. Hand on her cheek to hold her steady, to hold her _still_ , head tilted at just the right angle. Soft, slick mouth, rough grate of stubble against her cheeks and chin. _Stubble_ , and Kate’s toes curl in her socks to feel it, then wind even tighter when Seth skims his _teeth_ across her lower lip. Tugs that lip into his mouth and _sucks_ on it, gently, and a shock of heat arrows from the point of contact all the way to Kate’s groin. She wavers on her feet, clutching at Seth’s thick biceps, and the hand on her face travels down her spine to fold over her hip and keep her stable.

They’re doing this on her porch. They’re _doing this on her porch_ , and the neighbors could see, and Kate doesn’t care, not even a little bit.

Screw those rubberneckers anyway.

And then Seth’s pulling off of Kate’s mouth with a soft, damp pop, and Kate thinks, _Holy shit_.

He gives her one last kiss, short and sweet, before straightening up. He doesn’t take his hand off her hip.

“Thanks?” Kate manages, breathless. Her lips are tingling, and she’s pretty sure her nipples are hard.

Seth smiles at her, lips red and shiny from their kiss. He pulps her hip once before letting her go. “You’re cute,” he says.

 _Cute_. Kate doesn’t know how she feels about that. _Cute’s_ for little kids and Pomeranian puppies.

Seth steps out of Kate’s personal space—which, disappointing—and pulls a pen out of his shirt’s left breast pocket. Pulls out the crumpled receipt, too, and, still juggling the folded pizza bags, quickly scrawls something on it before handing it to Kate, who accepts it numbly.

Tucking the pen back into his pocket, Seth flashes her one last smile and says, “I’ll be seeing you, birthday girl,” before turning on his heel and trotting off towards the sleek sedan parked by the curb. There’s an Uncle Eddie’s Pizzeria car topper planted on its roof, and Kate blinks at it like she’s never seen one before.

Seth folds himself into the driver’s seat and guns the engine, and Kate glances down at the receipt in her hand. Scrawled across the bottom in spiky handwriting is the name _Seth Gecko_ , and beneath that, a phone number with a local area code.

Kate’s heart squeezes. Holy shit. Holy shit, _he gave her his phone number—_

The front door bangs open behind her, bouncing off the siding and making her jump. Jessica practically _shouts_ , “Holy fuck!”

Kate whirls around, clutching the receipt to her pounding heart like it’s made of gold and someone might snatch it from her. That’s not outside the realm of possibility, actually, considering the way her friends were looking at Seth.

Kate takes in the giddy looks on her friends’ faces and says, flatly, “You saw.”

“Fuck yeah, we saw!” says Libby. “You’re lucky Scott was too busy playing _Assassin’s Creed_ to pay any attention to what was going on out here, or else he’d’ve been fighting the hot pizza delivery stripper for your honor!”

Kate sighs. “He’s not a stripper.”

Jessica bounces onto the porch and seizes Kate by the arms. “Girl, you owe me the world’s biggest thank-you!”

Kate’s eyebrows wing up. “I do?”

“Hell yeah, you do! I wrote ‘send your hottest guy’ in the special instructions box, and, boy, did they deliver!”

Kate…has no words. “I can’t _believe_ you, Jess.” No wonder she was so adamant about Kate getting the door.

Jessica just grins maniacally. “Best birthday ever, though, right?”

Kate clutches the receipt with Seth’s number on it tighter. _Seth Gecko_ , huh?

“Yeah,” she agrees. She can still feel the burn of Seth’s stubble on her face. “Best birthday ever.”

**Author's Note:**

> Is Uncle Eddie's pizza shop a front for criminal activity? Probably. Possibly. Who knows? Not me.


End file.
